“Hey, Gabi.” She leaned back against the brick front of the pottery shop, crossing one arm over her to keep the chill away. “What’s up?”
“Hi, Jules.” Her sister sounded off. Distant. “Just got off a mid shift. What are you doing?”
“I’m getting ready to go to this pottery class thing. It was Viv’s idea.” She tried to keep her tone neutral, as though making pottery was boring. The last thing she wanted was for Gabrielle to feel left out.
“Oh yeah, Viv told me that was tonight.”
Damn. So much for trying to avoid hurting Gabrielle’s feelings.
“Adrienne and Anne-Sophie are going too, right?”
“Yes.” Juliette winced. “I wish you were here with us.”
“I know. Me too.” A sigh sounded from the other end of the line. “The next time Jeremiah leaves for training, I’ll come out to see all of you. I need a break.”
Juliette could hear it then, the fresh pain of someone who had recently been broken. She sucked in a breath but knew she had to ask. “How bad?”
“I lost one.” Gabrielle’s voice cracked.
Juliette knew her sister was crying those strong, silent tears. She knew she was trying not to break down, trying not to lose complete control. Her heart ached for Gabrielle, twisted in the worst way imaginable. She couldn’t fathom the agony, the overwhelming fear, the burdening guilt, of not being able to save a baby’s life. Of knowing she did everything she could, and it wasn’t enough. But she knew Gabrielle, and she knew she hadto let those emotions out. She had to force them from her so she could go back into her next shift without the weight of the world upon her heart. And Juliette was the one who would listen.
“It’s okay,” she whispered softly, offering as much sympathy as possible through the phone. “You can tell me.”
Gabrielle sucked in a breath. “She was beautiful. Seven pounds, nine ounces. But?—”
A choking gasp strangled her sister, and Juliette’s heart lurched.
“But the cord detached during delivery.” The words spilled from Gabrielle between shattering sobs. “Jules, she…she bled out. Their first baby and we couldn’t save her. We tried for an hour, but we…we couldn’t bring her back.”
Juliette’s throat closed, and she ached, ached for Gabrielle. For the baby she couldn’t save. For a couple she’d never met who wouldn’t get to watch their little girl grow up. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she hastily wiped them away.
It was agony. Raw, torturous agony.
“Gabrielle.” Juliette swallowed, forced down the knot of despair trying to suffocate her. “You did everything you could. You’re trained for this. That baby girl got the best care you could possibly give her. It’s not your fault. Do you understand? It’s not your fault.”
“I know.” Gabrielle sniffed. “But it hurts so much.”
It would always hurt, and it wouldn’t ever get easier. That much would stay the same.
“Not all of them can be saved.” It was a gentle reminder, but one Gabrielle needed to hear. Otherwise she would never survive. She would never make it through another shift if she let the weight of a loss bury her.
“I’m sorry, Juliette. I just needed to talk to?—”
“Don’t you ever apologize for this. Not for this. Not ever. I don’t want you to think you’re alone, or that you’re botheringme with your problems. I’ll always be here, especially when you need to unburden all the hurt. Your career is not for the faint of heart.”
“Thank you.” A breath shuddered out of Gabrielle on the other end of the line. “I’m going to go buy a pint of ice cream and a bottle of wine.”
“You do that.” Juliette smiled. “And don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
“I won’t. Love you.”
“Love you more.”
Juliette waited for the phone to disconnect, refusing to be the first to hang up. She took a deep inhale of the frigid air and steadied her nerves. Once she was halfway certain she had regained most of her composure, she walked into Lovely Mud.
“Jules!” Vivianne popped up from behind a set of pottery wheels and waved her over. “We saved you a spot.”
Her workspace was next to Adrienne, but across from Anne-Sophie. Her youngest sister sent a harsh scowl in her direction. There were a few other ladies in attendance for Erin’s class, Miss Bobbie being most notable. Her brows rose in interest, as though she thoroughly expected a show of some sort. Well, she was going to be sadly disappointed. She offered a friendly smile and moved to take her seat behind a pottery wheel next to Adrienne.
